He wanted to weep for the men and the loss of the herd. Those cowboys he had put on had disappeared also. Why hadn’t he gone with his gut instinct that the men weren’t who they said they were? Allowing himself to be talked into taking a short cut through the Dead Creek canyon had been sheer folly. It was a perfect place for an ambush.
He winced. He would have to walk the ten or so miles into Liston, report the incident to the sheriff, then get a horse and break the news to Arnie that his stupidity could just about bankrupt them.
His friends would have to remain unburied, he didn’t have the strength to do it. Stumbling back to the fire he was relieved to find his canteen lying on the ground not far from the upturned coffee pot. The rustlers had obviously thought he was dead, they certainly wouldn’t have let him live to tell the tale.
He put his hand up to his sweating forehead and his fingers came away covered in blood. The way he was feeling now, he doubted his ability to make it to Liston. His friends had to be avenged. Those polecats had to pay for what they had done. He wouldn’t be happy until they were all dead.
Even if it killed him, he would have his revenge.
Poor Arnie with his failing sight wouldn’t be much help to him. Hatred filled his heart to the brim.
He hadn’t walked far when he had to stop for a rest. Slumping against a tree trunk he took a swig of the tepid water from his canteen. If only his head would stop aching and his vision wasn’t so blurred. Now he knew what Arnie felt like. Not being able to see properly was frightening.
Dragging himself upright, he plodded on. Once he got to the road maybe someone would pass by and help him. He wasn’t counting on it. Although his vision was still blurry he finally saw the road leading into Liston. It was in the opposite direction to the ranch. He would be able to report what happened to the sheriff, maybe get Doc Winters to fix his head. The man had to be seventy if he was a day, but he had once been a surgeon in the army. Anyway, there was no one else with medical experience except the midwife, and he sure didn’t need her help. He gave a cracked laugh, wondering whether he was going crazy.
A cloud of dust suddenly caught his eye and he waited until a buggy came closer. He waved frantically, standing in the middle of the road so the driver would have to just about run him down to pass by. As the buggy drew closer he realized the driver was a preacher, going by the clerical collar he wore.
The man pulled his horse up. “Whatever happened to you, young man?” Shock was clearly etched on his face.
Briefly Grant explained what had happened.
“I’m going to Liston, I’ll take you with me. I’m Pastor Tresize.”
It took all Grant’s strength to grab the side of the buggy and haul himself up. He had never in his life felt so weak.
“I’ll take you straight to Doc Winters, he’ll be able to patch you up. Here, have a drink of water, you look like you need it.”
“Thanks, I’m parched. I drained my canteen a few miles back.” He took several long swigs, and the water trickling down his throat was like nectar from the Gods.
“I’ll say a prayer for your friends. And I pray that God will punish those evil doers.”
“Thank you.” I don’t know about God’s punishment. They’re dead men if I ever catch them. I’ll take great pleasure in shooting them down like the mangy dogs they are. Poor Pancho, he was only a boy.
He closed his eyes to lessen the pain. Even the dying rays of the setting sun hurt them.
The preacher drove him straight to Doc’s place once they arrived in Liston, and helped him inside. “Thanks for your help, Preacher, I’m much obliged,” Grant said.
The preacher briefly told Doc what had happened.
“Go to the sheriff tomorrow and report what happened, Grant. I want to check your wounds now. That’s the most important thing. You can rest after I fix you up,” Doc said. “Someone sure took a dislike to you.”
“I’ll go now, I’ve got a widow woman to visit before it gets dark. Goodbye and good luck.” Preacher Tresize touched his hat and left.
“Do you need a drink of water?” the doctor asked. Grant shook his head. “Now, let me take a look at you.”
Iris, the doctor’s wife bustled in and gasped with shock. “What happened to you?”
In a few words he explained what had transpired. “Fix me up, Doc, then I’ll get me a horse and ride home.”
“You won’t be going anywhere, young man,” Iris said. “You’ll be staying the night here so we can make sure you aren’t too seriously hurt.”
Grant winced as Iris cleaned up his wounds, but yelped with pain when Doc started stitching up the gaping cut on the side of his head.
“Here, have a swig of this.” Grant gladly swallowed the brandy Iris handed him. He really wanted to drink the lot of it to deaden the physical pain, and also the pain of losing his men. He wanted to argue that if he got a horse he could make it back to the ranch. Common sense had him agreeing to stay. He doubted he even had the strength to walk up to the Jonesy’s livery stable.
After his open head wound was stitched, Doc checked the rest of his head. “You’ve got a huge lump on the back of your skull, the skin isn’t broken, fortunately. You were lucky, a few inches either side, and you could have been killed.”
“I’ll bring you some tea,” Iris said as she gathered up the bloodied towel and pieces of linen.
“Tea?”
“Yes, weak black tea with plenty of sugar.”
Behind Iris’ back, Doc grimaced.
“It will do you good. I’ll cook you some eggs, that will be easy for you to get down,” she went on.
“Whiskey would be good. No food thanks.”
“Tea, though.” She bustled off.
“No point arguing,” Doc said. “You do need to rest. You’ve had a couple of nasty blows to the head. Exactly what happened?”
Grant gave him the full story, not the abbreviated account the preacher had passed on. “I should have followed my gut instinct. I knew there was something about the story those cowboys told me that didn’t add up.”
“No point agonizing over it now. I’ll go over in the morning and tell the sheriff what happened.”
“What about Curly and….”
“I’ll get the sheriff to organize for someone to go out and bring them in. By the way, I don’t suppose you would know, but Arnie got himself married while you were away.”
“Married!”
“Yes, a nice looking young lady. A Mail Order Bride named Hannah. She’s years younger than him.”
“He talked about writing away for a bride, but I didn’t think he’d actually go through with such a fool idea.”
“She seems like a nice girl,” Iris said, as she came back and handed him a cup of tea.
“Sounds like a gold digger to me.”
“She seemed to genuinely care about him when they were in town last week. She bought up a lot of material and says she’s making new curtains and replacing the shabby quilt.”
“Well, she’d better not touch my room.” Grant took a gulp of tea and it burned his mouth. “Ouch.”
“Tea is meant to be sipped, not gulped.”
If he had any say in the matter he wouldn’t be drinking it at all. No point arguing with Iris who was a determined woman.
“My head aches like it’s ready to crack open.”
“I’ll give you Laudanum for the pain. What you need is a good long rest.”
“Thanks, Doc, I’m obliged.”
“There’s a bed in our spare bedroom. We always keep it made up,” Iris said. “Your eggs should be ready by now.”
“I couldn’t eat anything, I’m sorry….”
“Leave the boy alone, Laudanum and rest is what he needs now.
Chapter 5
Grant’s eyes creaked open to find the sun streaming through the lace curtain of the small bedroom. He vaguely remembered going to the outhouse to relieve himself and cool water caressing his dry throat, otherwise nothing.
&n
bsp; By the position of the sun it was mid-morning. He must have slept for about sixteen hours. He moved his head and the throbbing had gone as had his hazy vision. I have to see the sheriff and tell him what happened out in the canyon.
Pushing the bed linen away, he slid out of bed. Thankfully the room didn’t tilt. Glancing down he realized he was only wearing his drawers. He found his pants and struggled into them. His waistcoat hung on the chair. Of his shirt there was no sign.
“Ah, you’re awake.” Doc stepped inside. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a herd of cattle stampeded over me, otherwise I’m okay. I must have slept for hours.” He glanced around.
“You’ve been asleep for thirty six hours.”
“I can’t have.”
“Take my word for it, you did, Grant.” Iris bustled in. “Here, take this shirt of Doc’s, yours was covered in so much blood I threw it out.”
“Thanks.” He put on the blue shirt she handed him. “I’d really like a coffee, then I’ll see the sheriff. Thirty six hours, I can’t believe it.”
“Everything is under control,” Doc said. “I saw the sheriff the morning after you arrived and told him what happened. He and his deputy with a couple of other men went out there.”
Grant followed Iris and Doc out to the kitchen.
“What about the men?”
“They brought them back and buried them.”
“What!”
“It couldn’t wait. The preacher gave them a decent Christian burial. I’m sorry, son, but they had been lying out in the sun and….”
Grant slumped in the chair at the kitchen table holding his head between his hands. “You should have woken me.”
“What good would waking you up do?” Iris said, placing a mug of coffee in front of him. “You needed to rest.”
“I have to catch those lowdown rustlers.”
“Leave it to the law. You need to go home, Arnie hasn’t been too well lately,” Doc said. “I was out there last week.”
“What about the new wife?” Grant sneered.
“Hannah has looked after him well considering she has no nursing experience.”
“Yeah, well that’s why Arnie wanted a wife, to look after him.”
“She’s been doing that.”
“She’s a gold digger.” Grant took a mouthful of coffee.
“Not only has she looked after Arnie, but she’s made him happy.” Doc’s comment caused him to almost choke. “Happy? Arnie’s always been happy, well before his vision got real bad.”
Iris placed a plate with bacon, eggs and a slice of bread in front of him. “Eat this up and don’t jump to conclusions. You haven’t met the girl yet, give her a chance.”
He didn’t need to meet her, he had met plenty of women over the years and could pick out a gold digger from a mile off, grasping, greedy women waiting to get their claws into lonely, gullible ranchers.
Arnie had been like a father to him and he wouldn’t be letting some conniving woman cheat him. He would be watching her, ready to pounce if she tried anything. The food tasted so good he ate hungrily. Iris was a great cook.
“Thank you for everything you’ve both done for me, I’m much obliged. Once I’ve finished eating I’ll go to the livery and see if I can borrow a horse. Those rustlers took our horses as well. How could….”
“Stop,” Doc said. “Too late for recriminations. Be thankful you got out alive. The sheriff said this gang has been doing this kind of thing for several years and you are one of only a couple left alive to tell the tale. The evidence in the canyon tells the story clear enough.”
“I’ll have to give the sheriff a description of them.”
“He knows who they are. They’re wanted in three states. Come back in a week so I can take the stitches out, and take it easy for a couple of days.”
Grant strode down to the livery to borrow a horse. Jonesy didn’t have much available.
“There’s an old mare you can have, in fact you can keep her, she’s little more than crow bait. I want the saddle back, though. Sorry to hear about Curly and the boys.”
“Thanks. I have to come back in and see Doc in about a week to get the stitches taken out of my head. I’ll bring the saddle back then.”
“I suppose you know Arnie got himself hitched to a pretty young gal.”
“I heard.” He tried not to snap. The more he heard about the woman the more worried he became for Arnie. Obviously, she was deliberately ingratiating herself with everyone. Well, those tactics wouldn’t work on him. He mounted and rode out of town. He was weighed down with sadness and guilt for what had happened. This woman arriving on the scene just added to his anxiety.
Finally, he arrived at the ranch. It had been a slow, tedious journey. He had not wanted to push the old mare too hard in the heat in case she collapsed on him. Smoke curled up from the chimney and he breathed a sigh of relief. He was home.
He dismounted near the barn, unsaddled the mare and gave her a quick rub down before setting her loose in the creek paddock. There was plenty of feed in there, and water. Dumping the saddle in the barn, he strode toward the back of the house.
“I’m back,” he yelled, as he stepped into the kitchen. Strange, there was no answer. He hung his hat on the hook behind the door and glanced around. Checked curtains covered the windows, whereas before they had been bare. The stove and saucepans gleamed. The room was tidier than he had ever seen it before.
“Arnie, are you there?” He stepped into the sitting room and almost exploded with rage. Arnie was slumped in a chair. Tied to the chair. Head hanging. Body at a strange angle. There was a large bruise on the side of his head. He looked like he’d been tortured. That conniving, evil creature he had married must have taken everything of value and left. Rage almost consumed him as he dashed over to his friend.
He was so angry his hands shook as they fumbled with the rope that was wrapped around Arnie’s chest and knotted at the back of the chair. He was still alive – barely.
His face was ashen, not a vestige of color remained. He undid the rope and lifted his friend up. His body was floppy as he carried him to the bedroom and placed him on the bed.
Arnie groaned. He was fully dressed, but wore no boots. How could a woman do such an evil thing? He wanted to find her, rip her to pieces with his bare hands. How long had Arnie been left in this terrible state?
The hatred he felt for the men who had ambushed him and killed his friends, was nothing compared to this. His heart slammed so hard against his ribcage he feared it would catapult out of his chest. His stomach churned until he wanted to vomit.
“Arnie, Arnie. What has she done to you?”
“Hannah?” Arnie asked weakly.
“No, it’s Grant. She’s not here.” He bit back the swear words he wanted to use to describe her.
“Grant.” Arnie’s claw like hand clutched his.
“She’s gone, and good riddance.” He muttered the last three words. Arnie had lost so much weight he wondered whether the woman had been starving him.
“I’m here to look after you. Do you want a drink?”
“No.”
“I’ll never forgive myself for leaving you to fall into some gold digger’s clutches.”
“Good woman.” Arnie’s speech was slurred and so soft he couldn’t understand most of what he said.
He was so mad he could swallow a horn toad backward. Clamping his mouth shut, he let the anger build up like a raging prairie fire. It was a wonder smoke didn’t come out of his ears?
Greedy, conniving women. Now was not the time to burden Arnie with what had happened in the canyon. What if something happened to his old friend? He had come here as a hungry, ragged fourteen year old after Pa up and left him. Arnie took him in, treated him like family. Poor Arnie who had lost his pretty young wife on their way here. Now he had fallen prey to this, this bed faggot.
“Would you like a coffee?” Something to eat? Arnie shook his head. He looked to be paralyzed down his left
side, going by the floppiness of his leg and arm when he had lifted him up.
It broke his heart to see him in such a state. Dare he risk leaving Arnie to ride the three miles to their nearest neighbor for help? Fretting and fuming, he sat holding Arnie’s hand wondering what to do for the best.
“Arnie! Arnie, where are you?” Grant heard a female voice cry out, then a woman barreled into the room and headed for the bed.
“Just a minute.” Grant stood and barred her way.
“Get away from Arnie,” she screamed.
“Why? So you can finish him off?” he snarled, grabbing her arm and dragging her out of the room. “Who the hell are you?” He had never hit a woman in his life before but was tempted to slap her.
“I’m Hannah. Who the hell are you?” She mimicked his words.
“Pack your things and get out.”
“You can’t order me around.”
“I can after the way you’ve treated Arnie, besides, half of this ranch belongs to me. So, you scheming, greedy creature he wasn’t as rich as you thought he was.”
“Let me go.”
He hadn’t realized he was still holding her arm until she kicked him in the shins. Shock had him jerking back, she twisted free and charged back into the bedroom.
Cursing, he leapt after her. She was going to finish Arnie off.
“Arnie, I’m so sorry.” Her impassioned words stopped him dead in his track. “I got back as soon as I could.”
“It’s all right,” Arnie whispered. “Grant is here.”
“You’re Grant?” She glared at him, dislike darkening her big blue eyes.
What on earth was going on? “How dare you keep Arnie tied up?” He lowered his voice so Arnie wouldn’t hear, and the words came out in an angry hiss.
“I had no choice, he would have fallen out of the chair.”
“You should have been here with him.”
He was shocked to see her eyes fill with tears. “I had to go to the Dillon’s to get help. Someone from there is going to ride into town for the doctor.”
Arnie’s breathing was labored, a sheen of perspiration covered his forehead.
Promise Forever: Fairy Tales with a Modern Twist Page 30